There is a light that never goes out
by LatteGrey
Summary: For the Let's!Write Sherlock Challenge, There is a light that never goes out, from The Smiths. Some secrets are made to be kept on the bottom of a safe box, buried deep down on the ocean.


Some secrets are made to be kept on the bottom of a safe box, buried deep down on the ocean. Others are made to be whispered on one single ear, really low on the middle of a crowded street, so no one can know it besides the person carefully listening to it. There still is a third type, the one on which you write the secret down on a piece of paper and hide on the person's room, without any kind of signature or identification, hoping that someday he would find out and think about you.

Sherlock got a secret, and he has no idea about which type of secret it is. The only thing that he actually knows is that it weights way too much on his chest.

_30 June, John_

There is a very old movie that has a scene that sort of look like this. Singing in the Rain, isn't it right? The one with the guy dancing on the rain, annoyingly happy about a single kiss? Well, my situation is similar in a way. I mean, there is **rain**. It's raining as much -if not more- than it was on the film. A kiss happened. Well, I'm not utterly happy about it, but it did. It shouldn't, though.

I broke him. I shattered my best friend. And without the faintest idea of what was going on. And now I'm running. And now I'm crying. And I'll never catch him, just like I'll never stop crying.

Damn, Irene.

_13 March, Sherlock_

There's something about him that I just don't understand. The way that he fascinates me is starting to become harder to comprehend. Every time he smiles my heart skips a beat, and when he walks close to me I watch my every step, knowing that he's not observing me in the same way that I'm observing him. And it just bugs me so much.

I could be worse, I'll admit. It could be **tedious**. But the one thing John's not is tedious. Yes, I can be bored by his side, but not by him - I would be bored by the general situation.

When did I first notice that he was something "special"? Well, in the third drama club practice. Yes, I entered the drama club, so I can learn how to act and, by that, manipulate people and disguise better, since both of them are essential abilities for a good detective.

He was doing that dumb number from Dancing in the Rain. Or Singing, whatever. _"Make 'em laugh, make 'em laugh, don't you know everyone wants to laugh?"_. Dull.

Well, of course I knew John before that. I wouldn't fall for someone who I just met.

He's my friend since kindergarten. He was the only one who wouldn't mind the way I speak or treat other people. Okay, he minded a bit, but less than all the others. He accepts me.

We joined the drama club together. I didn't ask him to, although it's really comfortable to do this kind of activities with him by my side.

The point is that I laughed. I laughed of that stupid routine, and he wasn't even doing it so well. But I could not help myself. I realized how lost I was just then. How completely lost I was, how I should try do walk away in that very moment and never, **ever**, see John again. But I can't do that to my best friend, can I?

My only friend.

_04 April, John_

It's starting to bother me. He closed himself to the world, and it's starting to bother me. He doesn't seem to comprehend why. _Why_ something that affects only him would would bother me.

He rejected the part, the Frank-N-Furter part. I thought he wanted the part. I mean, he auditioned to it. I wanted the Brad part, and I got Rocky - which is not bad at all, but still -. Sherlock got the part he wanted and just quit the drama club afterwards. He simply leaved in the middle of practice.

I went after him. Of course I went.

I always do. "You probably won't want to be next to me anymore, John", he said. "I'm just going to mess with your social status and life. You're better off without me".

I'm not, Sherlock. How can he be so clever and don't know that I'm NOT better without him? I shiver without him, I'm gray without him. God, damn it.

I wish I never met him. He's my red pill. You know, from Matrix.

Wow, how romantic.

_03 April_

"You know what's going to happen, don't you?"

Sherlock looked back, although he could recognize that voice anywhere. "I'm going to be called a fag, Irene", he said, stepping closer to her, "Being called a fag it's not so hard when you're already used to be called a freak. I'll get used to it", and so he turned his back on her, back to walking.

"John won't", she simply said.

_06 April, John_

I got the part. The boy who was supposed to be Brad had to play Frank-N-Furter, so I'll play Brad on his place and another boy will do Rocky. Honestly, I don't know why I'm so surprised; there aren't so much people on the club and with Sherlock's decline of the main role the whole scheme of the play would have to change, since we have no substitutes.

Even so, getting the part I wanted doesn't compensate at all not having Sherlock there. He calmed down after a day, but he's not coming back to the drama club. "I have to keep a low profile, John", "People can't know that I can act", "They would be able to Google me and find the play".

"Who are they, Sherlock?"

"My enemies. Please don't be stupid."

Well, if he says so.

I still miss him, tough. He's not completely comfortable with me -anymore-.

It seems like something changed. And it's really weird when your best friend since kindergarten starts to treat you differently. But he's always hiding something. It will pass, right?

_15 May, Sherlock_

I'm beginning to suspect that this is a suicide mission. Not that there IS a mission, but if it WAS one, it would be suicide.

I was watching the rehearsal today. I didn't stay for long; I got bored every time John wasn't on stage. It's a true relief that he got the Brad part, after all. Rocky is too exposed, and I don't know how I would react to it. I mean, I know. I just don't want to _admit_ it.

We're better now, also. And that only makes it worse. I should let him go, but I can't.

I just can't.

Every time that bloke looks me in the eyes I know what he sees. He sees me, and only me. Not even my brother does that.

And he the only one that could help me, really. I could talk to him. I could say, "I'm in love with someone".

"Who?", he would ask.

"I can't tell you".

"Well, can you tell the person?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"The person means too much to me, it would jeopardize our relationship."

"You'll never know if you don't try, Sherlock".

And then I could kiss him. Or I could look away and invite him for a cuppa.

And that single moment, between a kiss and a cuppa, would decide the rest of our relationship. It would decide where it ends, if it ends, and how it would go from there.

I don't want that. I want what I have now. But it hurts so much. Not that I'm not satisfied - I am. But the difference between our feelings creates... Tension.

I should just let go. The great Sherlock Holmes, letting go of something.

_03 June_

"I'm impressed."

"You're impressed?", John tilted his head to look at his friend, "I can't remember the last time I saw you impressed. Why?"

"Because you have a really poor memory."

"No, why are you impressed?"

"You're going out with me only a month away from the play. You should be rehearsing.", Sherlock said after taking a big gulp from his beer. They both had drinking age, but this habit of going into bars, drink and play "How much can you guess from that person over there" was already an old costume. They used to do it every time John didn't have a date on Saturday. Now, with the play and his new position on the rugby team, John's time was running low even for his dearest friend.

"Irene just kills it, Sherlock", John responded. Irene was indeed bugging him since they entered the drama club. She's obviously playing Janet, and apparently she enjoys making everyone life's over there a living hell.

"She's too sensual."

"Yeah, she's sexy, but that's not why I'm mad with her."

"For the character, John. It was a bad choice and she's doing it poorly. That's why she'd been a bitch to everyone."

"Oh, right. And I here thinking that you were been attracted to a girl."

"Only because I'm not attracted to her doesn't mean I'm blind", Sherlock frowned to his friend, grabbing a few peanuts and chewing them all at once, "and I don't have a problem with girls. They're just not-"

"Your area, I know."

They both stared for a moment.

"And you're not gay as well. I know that too." John said, breaking the stare and taking a gulp from his own beer. "Asexual. That's sounds fun."

"It's a lot more fun than your dates.", he smirked. John had a terrible eye for girls.

"Yeah. I bet it is", he smiled back. "The girl on the pink dress to your left. Tell me more about her."

Sherlock quickly glanced at her, "She got a boyfriend, that's all you need to know... And snores, have a cat and babysit during the week."

John shrugs and put some peanuts in his mouth. "I bet that you can't catch a peanut with your mouth if I toss it to you."

"That's a stupid bet. I bet that you don't have the courage to get on stage and sing that ridiculous song."

"Which one?"

"The most trashy one and with the most generic beat and lyrics ever."

"So you mean that one from Ricky Astley? I would never let you down", he said, as he got up and went to the stage. Perhaps going for a fourth beer wasn't such a good idea. The karaoke had no line, so he just asked to play the music and grabbed the microphone, laughing. Sherlock blushed at the scene. Could he be more lost than he already was? Apparently, yes.


End file.
